


charlie/dani

by romanticalgirl



Series: pick-a-porn [18]
Category: Life
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 2-21-09</p>
    </blockquote>





	charlie/dani

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 2-21-09

The air smells like sulfur and smoke. Halogen yellow streams through the walls, hundreds of pinpoints of light. Dani knows they’re dead. There’s no other answer, nothing else that makes sense. Somehow they got here, got too close, and this was the only answer.

Charlie’s body is heavy on hers, what feels like breath warm against her neck. She feels the words against her skin, unable to hear him, even if he weren’t whispering, even if they weren’t dead.

She nods her answer - is she okay? She doesn’t hurt, and she can’t remember ever not hurting. Charlie holds her closer, and she wonders why he feels so different than Tidwell, so different from anyone else ever before. She thinks it might have something to do with the fact that they’re partners. Or maybe that they’re dead. She can’t get past that, past the fact that she’s dead and there are things she meant to say, things she meant to do. It really sort of pisses her off.

She turns her head to say something, to rail at the universe or God or Charlie or whoever might listen, but instead she feels Charlie’s mouth on hers. The kiss is nothing like Charlie. It’s hungry and desperate and frantic, and there’s nothing even remotely Zen about it. She feels him ripping at the Velcro straps that hold her Kevlar on, tugging until the buttons that keep her shirt together are ripped from the fabric. His mouth is hot and insistent and she groans, the sound lost somewhere in the silence that envelops them.

She feels the shift of his body, the touch of his hands. She arches into him, unwilling to lose any contact at all, even when she knows it’s necessary for him to strip their clothes away, to undress them in the concrete dust and the faint smell of burning. He’s inside her before she knows he’s ready, even though she’s been ready since the first bullets started flying. 

He tried to get her to stay away, but she was as stubborn as he is, as he was, and she didn’t care what the answers were, just that she had to know. She needed to face it just as much as he did, and she’s not sorry. She’s glad that she knew, that she knows, before they died, that it wasn’t him, it wasn’t her father, it wasn’t really anything she was afraid of, but it was more and worse and better all at once. And she needs this, needs to know this, how Charlie feels deep inside her, how it feels to feel him.

“Being dead isn’t so bad.” She whispers, not sure if the words make any noise or not. But she knows Charlie nods and agrees, and she’s thankful that he’s with her, wherever she might be going.


End file.
